The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1887-05-01

would mot be allowed My servant is i'll in
! bed, and this girl is taking her place. But
no, Monsieur, | cannot let You go now. You
must come inand Snare my supper. jeanette,
| lay another Govern
u did that in advance. - answered the girl
| 'When NJ. lie Cure has VISITORS
"He insists on their becoming his
guest You are right, and Monsieur
! sees itr
! The trout perfectly cooked, was firm and
sweet; the Chablis, cool and fragant, with
faint scent of violets, CLEANED like liquid
gold in my glass; the table was exquisitely
laid, the silver, the plate of peaches, the
! yellow rf- laid Oh the white cloth, were
very l5.,autifal - the eye; the Cure with
his meioGlvtss voice, full of caressing notes,
charmed my ear, as his anecdotes and wit
delighted my mind. But all these lights
were Powerless to distract my attention from
the annoyance l had experienced. My calm
was malTed. l barely listened to my host,
| yet gave him enough attention to regret my
preoccupation. At another time his con
versation would have charmed me, who for
many months had heard only the sordid
| bargainings of the Norman peasants in their
| drawing and inharmonious patois.
He had been speaking about the Oxford
revival, and had quoted the Pope's remark
on the Puseyites, that like bellringers they
| invited the world to come in to the HOLY
| v,
| when, unable to contain myself any longer,
! | ludeiy interrupted him, saying: But
/ why vulgarize her glorious passion? Why
make her sublime fear. paltry and ridicu-
lous! One annoys the timidity of children
with blood-stained rapicrs, skulls or chromOs
of 'Fox's Martyrs They cannot explain her
terror. They only insult her."
The Cure smiled, and seemed at
once to understand what it was l was refer
ring to.
is in bad taste. But it is Bette's fault, not
mine"
Bette, he continued, ''ismy old servant,
the one who is lying ill upstairs. She has
been most faithful and devoted to me ever
since she came TO this place, now twenty
years ago | used to keep that rapier in my
bedroom, but it was not long before she
found it out, and then she insisted on hang
| ing it were you saw it. The arrangement
has always rather spoiled my pleasure in
the picture, and my reason is the same as
yours; but could not find it in my heart to
thwart the good old .woman's wish. She
| would have it thus, and would take no con-
tradiction on this point"
II suppose" / rejoined, "the good woman
was vexed at the sight of the girl frightened
at nothing. The blood-stained sword would
explain this fear, and make the tableau
complete 1t is natural in a peasant woman.
But should have been better pleased with
Bette if she had completed it in another way
For instance, if she had hung opposite those
terrified eyes picture by DelacToix or an
other classic That would have explained,
and charmingly, the horror of a creation of
Ms"
"You are severe ON Deacroix," laughed
the Cure. ''In my time he was to as what
Meissonier is to YOU today
| MAY ask, Monsieur, -" | said ''if there is
|
weapon"
"a terrible one" said the Cure.
His tone was so sad, and there
was such a sorrowful expression on his
face as he answered me that | regretted
my indiscretion and apologized to him
| for it,
ut is strange" he continued, after a
pause, that yon should askme this to-day,
| forsall this day my thoughts have been
going back to the most terrible scene of my
| life. Nay, do not ask my pardon am
| glad to speak to you of it. Silence does not
kill sorrow, it nurses it, | know it. For
| thirty years have never opened my mouth,
and the wound in my heart has deepened all
the more. Never, never be reserved on the
| troubles Of your life. Rather cry them out
around on the housetopS. Does not a cry
relieve bodily sufferinga Then why should
not the, same relief be afforded in the same
way TO the tortures of consciencea Ask for
| sympathy, human sympathy, and whether
| you get it or not, the mere asking will COM
fort You. will tell you about that rapier
and that picture. My heart has been very
| full to-day
Then, bending over the table to me. he
said:
THAT picture is the portrait of the only
woman have ever loved, and that rapier is
! the sword with which l killed my dearest
friend. The blood on its point is the blood
of the only heart of man that ever beat in
| love and sympathy with mine
"Ah," he continued, ''you look surprised
| One does not suppose any romance can be
enshrined beneath the Soutane of village
cure, and, perhaps, to look at me, appear
the very last man tohave had a drama of so
terrible kind in my life. Yet, | am told,
they made very good play of it at one of the
boulevard theatres in Paris. The world
had the comedy, the tragedy was for me. 1t
was just, quite just My story! Oh! a
common one. He was my friend, she, the
lovely woman, was his wife We had both
paid court to her, but he had won her He
was richer than /, and in France, you know,
that is the first consideration of parents i'm
giving their daughter. We'll, though loved
her with all my heart, when she became
his, was loyal to her as to him, as a gen
tleman and his friend. OF course sought
her society-it was natural was it not, that
ohouiu w aVs ASCu, lil-duNiSt
nobody sees that better than | do now. But
l swear, if swear / might, that my loyalty
to him and to her never, even in
thought, wavered an instant The world,
! the wicked world, thought otherwise; and
wicked tongues went wagging He was my
best friend, and loved him like brother
and all the more dearly that he was her
husband. Yet how could | act otherwise
than l did, when one day, urged on by these
wicked tongues, he rushed up to me on the
boulevard and struck me in the face, calling
Inc liar, traitor, coward. II was done in the
eyes of Paris, and was hot-blooded in those
days, 1t was a provocation, a challenge,
which was forced, as | thought then, to
accept. We fought next morning in the
Bots de Vincennes. Ii was an accident
yes that thrust of mine was an accident. |
shall always say so. He ran upon my point.
| could not help myself But, oh, the horror
of that moment! The artist who painted
that portrait was one of those who took my
Paul home. He told me that she looked
thus when she saw him as | had made him
As for me, went formany months crazcd
man. think it was my great-mcle, the
Bishop of r, who first suggested to me
that if any atonement for my crime there
could be, it would be in the devotion and
service of lifetime. 1 took his advice, for
/ was weary of the world passed through
the ordeal Of the novitate and was ordained.
Ny uncle gave me this presbytere and here
have lived and worked for thirty wears